


A Menorah and Merriment

by laughingacademy



Category: Eastwick (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hanukkah, Holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingacademy/pseuds/laughingacademy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Eastwick witches' Friday night get-together coincides with the eighth night of Hanukkah. Time to break out the Manischewitz!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Menorah and Merriment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [technosage](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=technosage).



As he was climbing down from the roof, Raymond said, "So, Christmas. It's a week from today."

"Yes," Kat replied, wary. These days, talking to her husband (ex-husband? Co-parent, at least) was like crossing an unmarked minefield -- she never knew what might trigger an explosion. He reached the ground and turned to face her, running a work-gloved hand through his hair; it was getting long, and Kat bit back the suggestion that she trim it.

"You gonna be around? Or are you taking off for martini night with the girls?"

Tightfaced, Kay reached past him and undid one of the spring locks on the ladder. "You know, this would all be easier if you would _try_ not to be a bigger jerk than you can help."

Kat managed to stop fuming by the time she arrived at Roxie's. Joanna was already there, talking at maximum speed as she unwound her scarf. "Hey, sorry I'm late, I had to put in some overtime on the Stool -- wow, that sounded really unfortunate."

"And I was holding the ladder while Raymond strung the Christmas lights on our roof," Kat chimed in.

"He trusted you enough to do that?" Roxie said, taking their coats. "I would've thought he'd be afraid you'd whistle up a wind to blow him off the roof, or send an icicle through his head."

"It's part of our unspoken agreement: we try to stay civil around the kids, and as long as he doesn't make threats or ultimatums, I don't squash him."

"Ah, peace on Earth, goodwill towards men. Oh, that reminds me: in honor of the holidays, I thought that instead of our usual martinis we'd have something more seasonal. So, over here on the stove..." Roxie pulled the lid off a pot and a wonderful aroma wafted out. "Mulled wine."

Her friends practically teleported over. "Ooh, that smells fantastic," Joanna sighed. "What's in it?"

"Red wine, sugar, water, and about half the spice rack. It's my first time making it, but it's hard to screw up. You just boil the water with the spices, add the wine, and let it simmer. I've also got some brandy, since a lot of the recipes listed it as a possible ingredient, and even if we don't use it for that there's always hot chocolate.

"And since tonight is the last night of Hanukkah --" She pulled out a square bottle. "Ta-dah!"

Joanna squealed. "Oh. My. God! You got Manischewitz! Roxie, you shouldn't have."

"It was no trouble."

"No, I mean, you really shouldn't have. Because (a) it's is more of a Passover thing, though some of my aunts use it in their Hanukkah dishes, and (b) ... Tell you what, open this and we'll each have a sip. Who knows, maybe it's better than I remember."

Roxie poured. They sipped.

"Well. That's ... piquant," Roxie conceded after a few seconds.

Joanne peered at hers. "Yeahhhh, that's exactly how I remember it."

"It tastes like Welch's," Kat said, smacking her lips, and held out her wineglass. Joanna and Roxie stared. "What? I have _five kids_, okay?"

As the others were pouring their portions into Kat's glass, the doorbell rang. Roxie muttered, "Right on time," and opened the door. "Hello, Darryl. Sorry, there's no more room at the inn."

"But I come bearing gifts! Actually, as much as I would enjoy participating in your holiday _kaffeeklatsch_, I can only stay a minute." He paused and inhaled deeply. "Though I am deeply tempted to linger. Mm, it smells absolutely heavenly in here. Is that mulled wine?" He sniffed again. "Has somebody been spreading jelly?"

"That's probably the Manischewitz," Kat said, holding up her glass.

"Then my timing is perfect. Fidel!" He snapped his fingers and the manservant stepped forward, proffering three large envelopes and a small crate. "You each get one of these, and Joanna, this is for you."

She accepted the box, forehead creasing. "Why?"

"Consider it a peace offering."

She set the box on a table, slid off the top panel, and pulled out a bottle. "You got me wine? Port?"

"Not just any port: Porto Cordovero 2004," Darryl crowed, rolling the Rs. "It has sweet notes and a strong backbone -- not unlike its recipient. Also, it is certified kosher. I'm told it goes very well with chocolate, and is best served at or slightly below room temperature, which means it should be just about perfect right now."

"Well ..." She looked at Roxie, who shrugged slightly. "Will you join us for a glass?"

"I would be delighted. Shall I do the honors?"

Fidel produced a corkscrew from somewhere and handed it to his master. In short order, Darryl had poured for the women and himself. "A toast. In the coming year, may you all shine brightly and find unexpected abundance. _L'chaim!_"

They chorused, "Cheers!", clinked glasses and drank.

"Nice. I must admit Darryl, you have good taste."

"Ah, Roxie, I would love to prove to you how true that is. But look at the time! I must be off. Good night, ladies. Don't forget your other presents!"

They saw him to the door and waved goodbye as the limousine pulled away. Roxie rolled her head from side to side, stretching her neck. "Well, that's a relief."

"What?" asked Joanna.

"In another universe, that visit ended with a trip to the ER." She closed the door firmly behind her.

"I am off duty," Kat declared. She picked up the envelope she'd left on the dining table and began working a finger under its wax seal. "Let's see what this is. Okay, I've got a card. 'Entitles the bearer to every treatment once, gratis.' Treatment? For what?"

Roxie had also pulled out a card. "There's writing on the back of mine: 'I'm planning to open a luxury spa in time for Valentine's Day. Please take full advantage, and tell me what you think."

Joanna snorted. "He's using us as a focus group!"

"Hey, if I can get a footrub and a paraffin treatment out of it, I'm game," Kat said. "Oh, speaking of wax, is it time to light the candles?"

"Yeah, we can do it now. Oh, hang on, I left it in the car."

Soon, she was screwing the ninth little candle into its socket. "Okay, we're good." She set the menorah by a window, then hesitated. "You know what, let me try something."

Without any visible support, the candelabra lifted about an inch, then resettled.

"Wow," Roxie said.

"Thanks, but that wasn't actually what I was going for. Hang on."

"Joanna?" Kat said after half a minute. "Are you trying to light to candles with your mind?"

"I thought it was worth a shot. Telekinesis, pyrokinesis, they're both basically manipulating matter and energy, right?"

Just then the center candle ignited.

"OH! You did it! That's awesome," Roxie gushed.

"No I didn't."

"Uh, that was me," Kat said sheepishly. "At least it was on purpose this time."

Roxie pulled her best _what-did-you-do-young-lady_ expression. "This time?"

Joanne gasped. "The night of the moon, the restaurant fire! That was you!"

"I didn't want to think so at the time, but it must have been. I mean, I was on the piano, singing, well, hell, a _torch song_, and the next thing I knew people were screaming and the sprinklers were going off. Although, the candles were already lit, so I didn't start the fire --"

"'It was always burning since the world's been turning --' Sorry," Joanna apologized, and hiccuped. "That was where you hooked up with Will, wasn't it."

Kat shot a nervous look at Roxie, who reciprocated. "Uh, yeah. Yes it was."

"And you got on like a house on fire. Joke! God, you guys, relax. No hard feelings. I had my shot, I blew it."

"Aw, sweetie..." Roxie squeezed Joanna's arm with one hand and handed out mugs of mulled wine with the other.

"So how are things going with him?" Joanna asked Kat, who took a swig from her own mug.

"Yummy. Uh, that was for the port," Kat said hastily. "He's really nice, and there's definitely chemistry, but I just don't feel ready to jump into something serious yet."

"Well, keep in mind, Will may be a good guy, but his patience isn't infinite."

Roxie took a sip of her drink. "How about you, Joanna? You've been spending a lot of time with your replacement at the _Gazette_."

"Oh, for cry-yi-yi! First Penny, now you -- why do people keep saying I have a thing for Max? He's an arrogant jerk!"

"You managed to work with him on that story. Maybe he's growing on you," teased Kat.

"The two of you could be a fast-talking pair of screwball reporters, like Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell," Roxie chimed in.

"Right, I am officially changing the subject, and I am firing up the menorah before the damn _shamash_ burns out."

Roxie and Kat both shrugged. "Such _tsuris_," the latter shot back. "Don't give me that look. Like you're the only Jewish girl I've ever met."

"Ooooookay. So, I'm going to light these, and recite the blessings." She lit the candles from right to left, half singing the words. "There."

Kat went in for a hug. "Happy Hanukkah, Joanna."

"Same to you, and to you too, Roxie."

"Thanks for letting us share in it," Roxie told her. "Oh, hey. Music! Mia helped me make a mix."

"Oh, please, no klezmer."

"Not exactly."

There was nobody outside the Torcoletti place then, which is a pity, since it meant there was no one to enjoy the sound of laughter rising over Dick Dale ripping through "Hava Nagila."


End file.
